by Jack Elwin
CHAPTER 5 A TRAP FOR A THIEF
NEXT DAY WAS Lord’s Day, and I went to St Peter’s church, though Agnes had to stay home with the babe. It was a dull service with a homily read by a Cavalier chaplain, urging obedience to the Lord’s anointed king, and threatening God’s judgements upon all rebels. How I longed for one of Mr White’s stirring sermons, though the thought of him still gave me pain.
After the service I had a talk with Mr Huatt, and walked with him part way down to his house. He wanted to know if I had any news for him.
‘Not much, I’m afraid,’ I said. ‘I went to see Jacob Perrin yesterday, and did not find him very forthcoming. But he told you the truth about soldiers having been there, for some of the villagers told me how a group of half a dozen or so troopers went to several of the houses and stole things—bedding, a crock, hens, cattle and horses from the Manor Farm, and so on. So it’s all too likely that Mr Perrin lost your treasures as well as his horse and cart.’
‘I still find it very suspicious that they took my treasure and left his,’ grumbled Huatt. ‘Why in the Lord’s name did he put mine in his barn?’
‘In the cowshed, don’t you mean?’
‘No, the barn. That’s what he told me. We were in the barn when I was asking him about it, and he pointed to the far corner and said he had hidden it under a heap of hay. He didn’t show me the exact spot, but it was certainly in the barn.’
‘He told me something quite different. We were in the cowshed, and he said he’d put it in a manger.’
‘The rotten good-for-nothing thief,’ Huatt exclaimed, ‘supplanter Jacob, trickster Jacob—I’ll have his guts! The Lord judge me if I don’t. I’ll make him pay it back with interest, the wretch.’
‘Not so fast, Lawrence,’ I said. ‘There’s something wrong in his story, I agree, but the soldiers were surely there, and his horse and cart have certainly gone, so it’s more likely than not that they did steal your stuff.’
‘Then why’s he telling lies about where he hid it?’
‘I don’t know. There’s something that doesn’t hold together there. I’ll have to have another talk with him, unless you would rather do it.’
‘No,’ he said, ‘I’d only get bad words from him and more denials, and lose my temper. I’d be glad if you would have another go at him. And don’t forget, Micah, I’ll reward you for your time and trouble.’
‘I won’t forget that, Lawrence. Maybe I could go to Monkton again this afternoon. It’s quite a pleasant walk. Are you sure you don’t want to come?’ But he repeated that it would be better if I went without him, as he didn’t trust himself to speak civilly to Perrin.
So, after a meal and some chat with Agnes, I set off again out of South Gate along the Weymouth road, and turned off when I reached the lane to Monkton. I found Jacob Perrin at home, or rather he was in the cowshed, hammering at something he was making. He did not seem pleased to see me.
‘Good day, Mr Perrin,’ I said. ‘Mr Huatt asked me to see you again to find out why you are lying.’ There was no point in beating about the bush, and I believe the direct approach is usually best.
‘God’s breath,’ he said, turning to face me and scowling, ‘are you calling me a liar?’
‘I am, and I’ll tell you why. You told Mr Huatt you hid his treasure in the barn. Yet you told me you hid it in the manger here. How about you coming clean and telling me where you really did hide it?’
He gave me a long stare but said nothing.
‘Come, Mr Perrin,’ I said, ‘I’m not accusing you of stealing it. Mr Huatt suspects that, and you must admit he’s got grounds to be suspicious when you’re not being open about it. But if the soldiers did take it, why are you telling us different tales?’
He gave me another long stare, and moved a little towards me in a thoroughly threatening way. But I stood my ground and stared back, and at last he lowered his eyes and said,
‘I lost me cart. They took that and me hoss.’
‘I know,’ I said, ‘you told me that yesterday. It’s Mr Huatt’s money I’m asking about.’
‘That’s what I’m telling you. They took me cart, they took his money.’
‘But how? You’re not saying you hid the money in the cart surely?’
‘’Twere in the cart.’
‘Do you mean to tell me you just put his money in your cart?—under a bit of hay, I suppose, just convenient for them to drive off with it.’
‘Nay, you don’t understand.’Tis a special cart that I worked on myself. It has a hiding place. The money was hidden safe enough—no one could find it. How was I to know they would steal me cart?’
‘They’ve been stealing carts all over the place. It seems a very poor hiding place to me,’ I said.
‘I didn’t know they’d steal me cart,’ he repeated, ‘and it was the best place I had to hide the stuff. I don’t ’spect they’ve found it even yet.’
‘If it was so good a place why didn’t you put your money there too?’
‘For one thing I’ve got mine in a big box that wouldn’t fit in there, and for another I thought it best not to put all the eggs in one basket.’
‘And this cart hidey-hole, where was it, in the cart I mean?’
‘In the floor,’ he said. ‘I made it myself. The floor of the cart is double, like, with a space between.’
‘Whatever did you make it for?’ I asked, though I suspected it might be for hiding goods he wanted to keep out of sight of Coast-watchers and other officials.
‘’Tis none o’ your business, mister,’ he said. ‘But that’s why I didn’t tell Lawrence Huatt about it. I didn’t see why he should know about the hidey-hole, and I thought he might be angry and say I shouldn’t ha’ hidden his stuff in me cart for the so’jers to take, though how I was to know they would steal the cart is beyond me.’
‘So you didn’t tell Mr Huatt the truth because you didn’t want him to know about the hiding place in the cart?’
‘Yes. Why the devil should he be told about the cart? If I like to make a bit o’ profit bringing stuff up from the coast, what’s that to him? Except the old hypocrite would be sure to go on about how he didn’t want his wife’s sister’s husband to be a smuggler. There’s nothing wrong wi’ smuggling, specially in times like these when folk are killing each other. Oh yes, killing people is right and proper if you’re good and religious, and the other folks are good and religious too, but not of your party. But smuggling—oh no, only thieves and ne’er-do-wells do that! I tell you, I can’t bear Mr holy-zealous-Bible-reading Huatt to lecture me, so I tell him nothing, and keep myself to myself. I did him a favour by hiding his treasure. But the loss of me cart—and me hoss—is worse for me than his loss is for him.’
This long speech seemed to take all the life out of him. He turned away and muttered, ‘Now I suppose you’ll tell him.’
‘I daresay that won’t be necessary. I certainly won’t tell him unless I have to,’ I said, ‘But, Mr Perrin, what you’ve told me gives me a glimmer of hope. If this hiding place in your cart is so well concealed it may be that the treasure is still there and hasn’t been discovered. If we could find your cart we might get it back.’
‘Not much chance o’ that, once the so’jers ha’ ta’en it away.’
‘No, but it’s worth enquiring into. Does your cart look just like any other? Is there any way of recognising it?’
‘’Tis just a cart, an ordinary cart wi’ two wheels.’
‘What colour is it?’
‘’Tis painted green an’ the wheels are yaller, and it’s got my letter “P” (that’s for Perrin—I know a “P”) on the tailboard.’
‘That should be easy to see if one could only find it. How do you open the hidey-hole?’
‘You have to pull out some o’ the tree nails—the wooden pins—at the sides, then you can lift up part o’ the floor.’
‘And will you swear to me that this is the truth, you’re not making this up,’ I said. ‘You really did put the treasure in this place
in the cart?’
‘As God is my witness, it’s the plain truth.’
I considered for a moment. The wild thought that I might track down the cart and recover the treasure crossed my mind. Already the excitement of the chase was taking hold of me, and my resolve to avoid danger was weakening. I clapped my fist against my other palm.
‘I’ll go and look,’ I said. ‘I’ll go to Weymouth tomorrow, or maybe I’ll have to wait for the next day so that I can go with the carrier. It’s a wild throw that will probably come to nothing, but who knows?’
As I walked back to Dorchester I turned over the possibilities in my mind. The cart was fairly distinctive with its yellow wheels, and provided the soldiers had not left the area it might well be possible to find it. But how could I undo the secret place in the floor and get possession of the treasure with soldiers all about? It would be hard, perhaps impossible. However Huatt had promised to reward me even if all I did was to find out what had become of his treasure, so it would be worth my while to try. The cursed urge that makes me stick my nose into other people’s business, and get myself into tight corners, was beginning to seize my mind. How wonderful it would be if I could recover what Huatt had lost! Why, I might even discover what had happened to Whittle’s treasure too. I felt my heart beating faster.
But what would Agnes say? She would feel it was none of my business and would try to dissuade me. I would have to play down the dangers and make out that going amonst the Cavaliers in Weymouth would be an easy jaunt.
As I entered the town I was still wondering what I would say to her, yet looking forward to a restful evening at home, and I was half way along South Street when I met Denis Faire. He stopped and grasped my arm.
‘Mr Judd, have you heard?’ he said. ‘Nicholas Dashwood has thrown Elizabeth over, and all because her father has lost his savings and the dowry money, stolen by the soldiers. I’m sorry for him, of course, but delighted for Elizabeth.’
‘Do you hope her father might look on you more favourably now?’ I asked. ‘If I were you I wouldn’t build up my hopes too much, for I saw him yesterday and he’s still hoping to marry her to someone rich and of good family.’
‘But if he hasn’t got money how will he do that?’
‘He’s still got his business and his stock,’ I said. ‘He’ll gather savings again, and in a year or two will be able to achieve his aim, I guess.’
‘It would take him longer than that, I should think,’ said Denis, ‘and can he afford to wait that long? He can’t put Elizabeth into a drawer like one of his pairs of gloves, to bring her out in a few years when he’s ready!’
‘I only know what he told me,’ I said. ‘While I was talking to him I also put in a word for you, and told him not to reject you out of hand. I said that one day you would be rich and successful, but I’m afraid he didn’t seem to listen.’
‘You told him that? Oh, Mr Judd, you are a good friend. If only he would believe that my stall will do well—as it will—and that mine is a good business, then he might consent to let me woo Elizabeth. I don’t think she dislikes me. Why, one day I might have a shop as good as his.’
‘The trouble is your business does not come under the five companies and you have not been regularly apprenticed,’ I said. Dorchester tradesmen are regulated in five companies, each with a Warden as governor—Merchants (to which I belong), Clothiers, Iremongers (that is, Ironmongers), Fishmongers, and Shoemakers (including other workers in leather, like Mr Whittle, glove-maker). The members don’t take kindly to outsiders trying to join, and normally the only way to be accepted is to serve seven or eight years apprenticeship.
‘But mine is a new business, not one of the regular crafts. If I do well I shall apply to the Iremongers, if they will have me, for I do deal in iron and hardware,’ said Denis. ‘But I shall build up my trade first. There can be no objection to my having a market stall, I’m sure, and their wives will persuade them it’s worth having me in the town. Already the womenfolk come around like bees, looking for a bargain. Some of them come for jewellery, so I hope also to do more in that line, with gold and silver and pearls, not to make jewellery, of course, but to buy and sell. I may not always deal in pots and pans. Why,’ he laughed, ‘I might do even well enough to join the Merchants. And thinking of jewellery—hey, Mr Judd, could you spare a moment? would you come and see what I’ve got? You could then tell Mr Whittle what high-class trade I’m going in for. Also you might see something you would like for your wife.’
‘Would another time do, Denis,’ I said. ‘I’m just on my way home now.’
‘It won’t take more than a few minutes, Mr Judd, I won’t keep you. But you may see Mr Whittle tomorrow, and it would be nice if you were able to tell him you’ve seen what good things I’ve got.’
He was so cheerful and eager that I smiled and said, ‘Very well, I’ll come. I’ll just have a quick look, but don’t expect me to stop to buy anything, for I must get home.’
He led the way through several narrow alleys and stopped at the door of his little cottage and let us in. The door (as I remembered) opened straight into the main room, and I was prepared to find his stock all over the floor and to have hardly anywhere to place my feet. In fact it wasn’t as difficult as I had expected, for Denis had piled things on top of each other at one side. Leaning against a wall was the trestle table he used for his market stall, and near it a two-wheeled barrow laden with more of his stock. I noticed the wide fireplace had dead embers in the grate and a black cooking pot hanging from a rusty hook. Besides the upright chair I had seen before he now had a small table and a stool.
He unlocked the door of a cupboard built into the thickness of the wall, and lifted out a box about a foot and a half long which he placed on the table and also unlocked.
‘Now see,’ he said, ‘what do you think of these?’
I looked at a collection of gold and silver pieces—rings, chains, brooches, bracelets and other things. Some were set with stones, and there was at least one pearl necklace.
‘This is amazing,’ I said, ‘what a wonderful lot you have gathered.’
‘I’ve been building up this collection for over a year,’ he said, ‘picking up pieces here and there, wherever I could find a bargain. I only take one or two at a time to the market. But I think I’m doing quite well, don’t you?’
I lifted one or two of the pieces, and suddenly my heart sank. There was a ring with the incised picture of a unicorn. And there was the chain enamelled with white flowers and green leaves. There could be no doubt about it: these were stolen from Mrs Dashwood. I did not have the list with me, but I suspected that one or two other pieces —this rock crystal in silver strapwork bands, for example—were also hers.
‘Do you like that?’ said Denis, as I examined the chain. ‘It would look well on your wife, but it’s rather expensive, I’m afraid.’
‘Where did you find this?’ I asked.
‘An old woman sold it me. She was having to sell her jewellery because of losses due to the wars. She’s brought pieces to me more than once, as she has need I suppose—that ring with the unicorn, for example.’
‘When did she start bringing you things?’
‘Some weeks ago, I’m not sure exactly when. It was when everyone was getting worried before the soldiers arrived. She said she would rather sell them than have the soldiers steal them, though I think she’s kept some of her things to sell later perhaps.’
‘So it was definitely before Lord Carnarvon and Prince Maurice arrived that she first came to you?’
‘Oh yes, I’m sure of that. Why do you ask?’
‘Because these pieces are stolen.’
‘Oh my God,’ he said, ‘are you sure?’
‘Yes, there can be no doubt about it. The owner gave me a list of what’s been stolen, which I’ve got at home. I’ll have to check all your pieces against it, but I’ve no doubt about these, for I remember them particularly.’
I was afraid, when I first saw he had the
pieces, that he might have been involved in some way in the robbery, perhaps knowingly acting as receiver of stolen goods. But his shock and distress seemed so genuine that I was inclined to believe that he had bought the things innocently. However, I was still a bit wary in case I was deceived in him.
‘How many of these other pieces did you buy from the old woman?’ I asked. He sat on the chair and drew the box towards him.
‘I bought the unicorn ring and these two others the first time she came,’ he said. ‘Then she came again—it was the very day the soldiers arrived, Lord Carnarvon’s men I mean. I remember the day because I was afraid they would ransack this house, but in the event the rusty pots and chipped plates put them off. She brought that chain with the flowers and this brooch. Then yesterday morning she brought a whole lot of things, rings, brooches and ear-rings. I can pick them out, if you like. I didn’t want to buy so much at once, and drove a harder bargain than before. But she was insistent that she needed the money and accepted what I offered. I can understand why now, if they were stolen. She’d be glad to get them off her hands and get what money she could for them. She said she might have more to sell this week.’
‘What does she look like, this old woman?’
‘She’s quite tall for a woman, with a thin face, somewhat wrinkled, grey hair. She’s been wearing black, with a black cloak and hood each time I’ve seen her.’
‘Would you know her if you saw her about in the town?’
‘I think so, yes, thin and tall as she is.’
‘How did she speak, like a lady?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ he said doubtfully, ‘not a common working woman anyway.’
‘And have you sold any of the things you bought from her?’
‘No, as it happens I haven’t. As I said, I haven’t been taking more than one or two bits of jewellery to my stall at any one time. I’m hoping to build up a good stock for when I open a shop. Anyway, I haven’t sold any of her pieces.’
‘Thank God for that,’ I said, ‘but the question now is, what’s to be done? Clearly the stolen things will have to go back to their owner. But it will be a loss to you.’
‘A loss I could well do without,’ he said ruefully, ‘but whose are they?’
‘They belong to Mr Dashwood, or rather, they’re his wife’s jewels. The Dashwoods told me only yesterday about the robbery.’
‘Oh my God,’ he said again. ‘Dashwoods have been my bane. Will you have to tell them that I’ve got their jewels?’
‘Not straight away,’ I said slowly. ‘I smell something not quite right about this affair. I think I must have a nose for things that aren’t quite as they seem. No, for the moment keep these things safe. Keep whatever the old woman sold you separate from your other pieces. I’ll fetch the list of what has been taken and see if it’s all here, and then we can decide what to do.’
I walked home rapidly, and had a quick word with Agnes, who was rather upset that I had been away so long. But this matter could not wait so, tired as I was, I went back to Denis with Mr Dashwood’s list. We sat at the little table and checked all his jewels and trinkets against the list.
A number of items on the list were not in Denis’s possession, so either the old woman had disposed of some of them elsewhere or she might come back to sell them to him, as indeed she had hinted. I thought it unlikely that, having found an easy way of disposing of the stolen things, she would go elsewhere. There were jewellers in the town, people like old Robert Coker, the Royalist, but it would be much more risky for her to try to sell stolen goods to one of these experienced men, who would be likely to ask awkward questions, and might even recognise some of the pieces. No, it was clever of her to approach a young man with no special knowledge, and to dispose of them bit by bit.
It occurred to me that if she was someone in the Dashwood household I might be able to scare her into trying quickly to sell the rest of what she had stolen, and so I might be able to trap her.
‘If this woman comes to you again,’ I told Denis, ‘you must arrange for her to come back at a set time. You could say, for example, that you have to go to borrow or find the money to pay for her things, and that you will see her later that day. Then come straight to me and let me know when she’s coming. I will lie in wait, and we will catch her.’
I still wasn’t sure that Denis was entirely innocent, but felt that if he was somehow in league with the thief he would raise objections. As it was he accepted my plan eagerly.
‘Now,’ I said, ‘you had better let me take charge of these stolen pieces. I will give you a note of what I take. They will have to go back to the Dashwoods, but before I tell Mr Dashwood I want to establish exactly what has been happening. It looks as if one of their confidential servants has been robbing them. But there may be more than one involved, and possibly someone outside their household, so the first thing must be to find out who this old woman is, if we can, and then discover from her who else may be in the plot.’
‘What about me?’ said Denis. ‘I can ill afford this loss. It will set me back terribly, if not ruin me. And will I get into trouble? Mr Dashwood is a hard man, I believe, and he could do me much harm.’
‘Provided you bought the things in good faith you should be in the clear,’ I said, ‘but if it were suspected that you knew they were stolen you could be in trouble, true.’
‘It did cross my mind that they might not be the old woman’s to sell,’ he admitted, ‘but when I questioned her, her story seemed so convincing and she seemed so respectable that I believed her.’
‘It may be possible to return the stolen goods without bringing your name into it, provided that we catch this woman. So you make sure we do that, and I’ll do my best to see that you don’t suffer,’ I promised.
I wrote down particulars of the pieces I was taking, making two lists —one for Denis and the other for myself, then wrapped the jewellery in a kerchief and carried it home. I was worried by the affair, for although I was practically sure now that Denis was innocent I would only be able to prove it if the old woman could be caught and made to confess. But if he was innocent, how could the money he had paid her be recovered? for she had probably spent it by now, so he would suffer loss which (as he said) would be hard for him.
I hid the jewels with my own things under the flagstone in my yard, then sat for a little with Agnes, though I was rather tired, not having had a restful Sabbath. I decided not to say anything about going to Weymouth until I had consulted with Huatt. Yet after we had gone to bed I could not sleep for some time, for my thoughts were churning—a mixture of lost treasures, Huatt’s, Whittle’s, Dashwood’s, that eventually formed part of my dreams.
Next morning, as early as I decently could, I called on Mr Dashwood. I had decided not to tell him yet that his lost property had been discovered, partly because the affair still smelt odd to me and I wanted to get to the bottom of it, and partly because I had not yet recovered all the stolen goods and wanted the old woman (if she was part of his household) to show herself.
As I stepped up to his door it opened and Nicholas Dashwood came barging out. He was red in the face and angry, and he slammed the door and pushed past me, almost throwing me off the step, and strode off without the least apology. Perhaps he had been having a dispute with his father, for after I had been let in by the old manservant I saw Mr Stephen Dashwood behind him in the hall also looking cross and ruffled, like an angry turkey-cock.
He came forward and seemed surprised to see me.
‘I did not send for you!’ he exclaimed roughly.
‘No sir,’ I said, ‘but I’ve been thinking about your wife’s stolen jewellery. It seems to me possible that the robbery could have been done with assistance from inside the house. Possible one of your servants could have been involved. I would suggest that you make a thorough search of the servants’ quarters.’
I said this loudly in the presence of the manservant, assuming that what I had suggested would soon be common knowledge amongst the other servant
s.
‘I must say it had crossed my mind that if it was not soldiers but local malefactors who broke in, someone in the house might have helped them and shown them where the jewels were. My wife said—in between her tantrums—that a thorough search had been made. But I will make another, if possible more thorough, though I expect by now the wretches will have conveyed away all that was stolen.’
‘A thorough search might yet turn up evidence,’ I assured him loudly, ‘don’t let them get away with such a deceitful crime, sir.—And how is your wife now?’
‘Well enough. A bit low in spirits, but then she usually is,’ he said carelessly.
‘If you need a cordial to raise them I have something good,’ I said, but as he did not respond—in fact he turned his back on me without a word—I shrugged my shoulders and allowed the serving-man to let me out.
Next I called on Lawrence Huatt. I found him in his workshop, surrounded by the clutter and tools of the pewterer’s trade. He was burnishing a rather fine jug, but put it on the bench as I entered and asked if I had any news.
‘A little, but still not very much,’ I said. ‘I saw Mr Perrin again yesterday afternoon as I promised, and sorted out the muddle about where he had hidden your treasures. What I have found out is that the soldiers may not have realised what they were taking. They have gone to Weymouth, and I am wondering whether it would be worth while following them there to see if anything can be recovered.’
‘I don’t understand,’ he said, ‘how can they have taken it without knowing what it was? Let the Lord be witness, Perrin’s having you on, the dishonest rogue!’
‘I don’t think he is now,’ I said, ‘and he convinced me that it might be possible at least to find out where your treasure has been taken. I think it’s most unlikely that you’ll be able to get it back, but if you want me to try, I’d be willing to go to Weymouth tomorrow with the tranter’—that’s the carrier—‘and find out the truth. You did say you would be willing to pay to find out what has really become of your money, and I think I might well be able to do that. I won’t promise any more.’
‘It seems a nonsense,’ he said, ‘and I still think Perrin is hiding something, though God knows I’d be glad not to have to think him a thief. But very well, I’ll pay your expenses to Weymouth and will just hope you clear this up.’
I then spent time in my shop, having got rather behindhand of late. Just before midday Denis came running to my door and exclaimed, ‘She’s come again, that old woman. She’s brought more than before.’
‘What has become of her?’ I asked.
‘I said I would buy all she’d brought, which seemed to please her, and (as you suggested) I told her to come back in an hour or so because I had not the money to hand. I said I would have to borrow it from a friend, if she wouldn’t mind stepping out for a little. So if you like you can come back with me and hide upstairs and overhear what she says.’
‘No,’ I said, ‘I think it will be better if I wait at the corner of the alley, and when she comes I will let her go in to you. A minute or two later I will come to your door. In that way I shall catch her red-handed, and will also be blocking the doorway should she try to escape.’
‘Very well,’ he said, ‘I will go back now. But do make sure you are there in good time, Mr Judd, for I don’t want to part with any more money for stolen goods, and it’s true, I haven’t enough in hand for all she’s trying to sell.’
I stayed only long enough to put away a few bottles and close some drawers and to call to Agnes to mind the shop, then I went down to the corner of Denis’s lane. I looked around for somewhere to hide from which I could watch his door, but apart from shallow doorways I could at first see no suitable place. Then I noticed a narrow passageway between two houses and went in there.
I was gratified that my scheme to frighten or encourage the thief to dispose of the rest of the stolen jewellery seemed to have worked so quickly, in fact much more rapidly than I had expected. But I could imagine Mr Dashwood storming about his house and terrifying the servants. It would be little wonder if the guilty one should try to get rid of incriminating possessions at once.
From my hiding place I could not see down the lane, and had to keep coming out a little to peep, and I began to be afraid that some of the local people might see me and suspect me of planning a crime, and perhaps calling the constables. In fact after half an hour or so a rough woman came across and said,
‘Eh, mairster, what the de’il be ’ee a-doin’ here?’
‘I’m waiting for someone,’ I said.
‘Why be ’ee standen in the alley, then?’
‘Because I have a fancy to.’
‘Then I have a fancy for ’ee to move along.’
‘Maybe,’ I said.
‘Well then, be ’ee moving?’
‘In good time,’ I said.
How long we would have kept up this pointless conversation I don’t know, but fortunately at that moment I saw a tall black-cloaked figure enter the far end of the lane. She had her hood pulled forward to conceal her face, and she was carrying something in her right hand under her cloak, which she held together in front with her other hand. She hesitated a moment at Denis’s door, then knocked and was admitted.
‘I shall call my husband if ye don’t go,’ the rough woman was saying, but I ignored her and walked on down the lane. At Denis’s door I did not knock, but opened it abruptly and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. The woman had been in the act of showing Denis what she had brought, and they were standing on each side of the table with a glittering collection of rings, bracelets and ear-rings spread between them.
At once the woman turned round with a jerk and I recognised her: it was Mrs Dashwood’s maid. She recognised me too, and gave a little cry and a swift movement as if she would run. But there was nowhere she could run to, with me blocking the door. Then she turned and cursed Denis as a betrayer. Such language seemed particularly blasphemous from the mouth of such an outwardly respectable elderly woman, and when she paused I said,
‘Cursing this young man will do you no good, woman. He did not betray you, but your own wickedness and folly. How could you betray your mistress’s trust like this?’
She turned to face me, a secretive sullen look in her eyes.
‘I didn’t,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’ I demanded. ‘These are your mistress’s jewels, are they not? They were stolen from her a few days ago—some perhaps earlier. Your master, Mr Dashwood, gave me a list of what was missing, including these things.’ I hadn’t in fact had a chance to check whether these were on his list, but I thought it most probable.
As she said nothing, but closed her lips tight and pulled her hood over her head again, I added,
‘Very well, madam, if you won’t explain to me you will have to come and explain your conduct to Mr Dashwood. And you know the penalty for thieves.’
I stepped forward as if to seize her arm, but she drew back and said, ‘Don’t touch me. I won’t run away, and I will explain all. I will explain it to you, sir, privately, and I will show you that these things are not stolen. But there is no need for this man to hear, for it is a very delicate and private matter. I will come with you quietly and explain.’
She seemed about to gather up the pieces from the table, but I prevented her and told Denis to keep them safe.
‘Come along then,’ I said to her, ‘and you understand, I hope, that now I know who you are it will be no use trying to run away. You will be caught and hanged. It may be that you will be hanged anyway, but trying to escape will make it certain.’
We began to walk up the lane together, and I continued, ‘On the other hand, if you confess who your accomplices are, and ask for mercy, and return the money you have gained, the Dashwoods may let you go quietly in spite of your treachery.’
‘You don’t understand, sir,’ she said, ‘I must ask you to listen to me.’
‘What don’t I understand? I understand you are a thief who has
been selling her mistress’s jewels!’
‘No sir, the jewels have not been stolen.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They are not stolen, sir, because they belong to Mrs Dashwood. I am selling them for her.’
‘But... but her husband —’ I began.
‘Mr Dashwood does not know. I must beg you, sir, don’t make trouble between them. Things are hard enough as it is. It will do no good, no good at all, to tell him about it.’
‘But how can I not?’ I asked. ‘He told me these things were stolen, gave me a list of them and asked me to look out for them. I have done so, and found them and the thief.’
‘I tell you, there is no thief,’ she said earnestly. ‘Do believe me, sir, mistress herself gave them to me to sell on her behalf.’
‘What! after making all that fuss, crying and moaning that she had been robbed? Are you asking me to believe that she made it up, that she was play-acting?’
‘She’s afraid of Mr Dashwood, she was afraid he would be angry, she was trying to turn aside his wrath. But they are her jewels, and she did ask me to do what I’ve done with them.’
‘Yet even if you are telling the truth, which I doubt, they are still Mr Dashwood’s property. She has no right to sell them without his consent, for in law all that a wife has is her husband’s.’
‘That may be law,’ she exclaimed, ‘but surely to goodness a lady may do what she wills with her own jewellery!’
‘Not only would the law count it stealing,’ I retorted, ‘but you have put Denis Faire, the man you sold them to, in danger of being accounted a receiver of stolen goods. He might get into serious trouble, and at the very least is likely to lose his money, unless you can repay him.’
She began to cry quietly and wiped her eyes with the hem of her cloak.
‘Oh sir,’ she said, ‘it’s all too hard for me. If you could talk to mistress privately she could explain.’
‘Listen,’ I said, ‘I don’t know whether I shall be able to keep this from Mr Dashwood, nor whether in all honesty I ought to. But if your mistress wants to prevent her husband knowing, she had better bring me very convincing reasons, and quickly too.’
‘Where could she meet you, sir?’
‘Let her come to St Peter’s church in an hour’s time,’ I said. ‘I shall be there, and if she does not come I shall go straight to Mr Dashwood and tell him all I know.’
‘She will come,’ she said.
‘Go then.’
I watched her hurry away, and wondered whether I was being foolish to believe her. Was I also being foolish to get involved in some sort of intrigue in the Dashwood household? I could not imagine why Mrs Dashwood would be selling her jewels in this secretive way. But I wanted if possible to keep on good terms with both Mr Dashwood and his wife. If they became my enemies they could seriously damage my business, for they were influential in the town and were connected to many of the leading families. In a little more than an hour her fate—and perhaps mine—would be decided.